


Domestic

by hawksonfire



Series: Mandatory Fun Day [10]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Clint Barton, Clint Barton the Crymaxer, Clint cries when he comes, Clint is so needy, Hand Jobs, M/M, Overstimulation, Sex, Soft Boys, This is pure filth, Top Bucky Barnes, domestic boys, i aint even sorry, so much sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 00:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19240087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Clint and Bucky have an argument about their domesticity.Clint won?No, Bucky won.They both won.





	Domestic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [ this week's ](https://mandatoryfunday.tumblr.com/post/185492828582/we-had-uh-a-few-requests-for-this-so-were-just)Mandatory Fun Day prompt. 
> 
> This is pure filth and I regret nothing.

**Bucky**

“It’s fuckin’ gross, is what it is,” Bucky says, mouth curling in disgust.

“Aw, c’mon Buck, it’s not that bad,” Clint pouts. He flips himself over so that they’re chest to chest and props his head up on his hands. 

“I will never agree with it,” Bucky insists, “I am the goddamn Winter Soldier, for fuck’s sake!”

“What, the mighty Winter Soldier’s not allowed to be -”

“Don’t say it!”

“-  _ Domestic _ ?” 

Bucky screeches and shoves Clint off of him, flailing dramatically on the couch. “My ears! They burn!” He cries.

“You’re ridiculous,” Clint says fondly, grinning up at Bucky from the floor.

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” Bucky says as he tilts his head downwards.

“I mean, I  _ guess _ ,” Clint says, but he presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek anyway. He climbs back on top of Bucky, sitting on Bucky’s stomach and looking down at him. 

“Hi,” Bucky says, smirking up at him. 

“Do you really think it’s gross?” Clint asks, and he’s biting his lip and twisting his hands in Bucky’s shirt and aw,  _ shit _ . Bucky done fucked up.

“Hey, baby, no,” Bucky says, pulling himself upright, “I love how domestic we are. I love that we make weekly grocery lists, I love that you yell at me about leaving my socks on the floor -”

“The hamper’s right there!”

“- I love  _ you _ , Clint, and you have no idea how incredibly happy it makes me that I’m able to show you that every day.” It’s too awkward an angle for Bucky to kiss him, so he just presses his hands to the small of Clint’s back, rubbing a little circle with his thumb. 

“But I know that it can be a lot sometimes,” Clint says, and he’s still biting his lip,  _ dammit _ . “I can tone it back if it makes things weird, I don’t want you to be -”

“Incredibly happy?” Bucky interrupts. “Outrageously ecstatic that I get to spend my life with you? Ridiculously in love with the man of my dreams? Absolutely okay with you sticking those goddamn icicles you call feet in between my legs at night? One hundred percent on board with everything that makes you,  _ you _ , because without those things you wouldn’t be the man I love, unquestionably, with all of my goddamn heart? Which of those things don’t you want me to be, exactly?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Clint says, but the tips of his ears are pink and he’s fighting back a grin.

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, and despite the (very) shitty angle, he leans up and pulls Clint down and plants a wet kiss right on his mouth. “Ridiculously in love with you.”

“Ditto,” Clint says, and Bucky stops trying to get closer to him. 

“Ditto? Clinton Francis Barton, are you fucking kidding me? I just pour my entire heart out to you and you respond with  _ ditto _ ?” Bucky grumbles. “Remind me again  _ why _ I’m in love with you?”

“My cold feet?”

“Absolutely not,” Bucky grunts.

“The coffee I make in the morning?”

“Oh, you mean the stuff that could pass as car fuel?”

“The way my butt looks in a swimsuit?”

“Getting warmer,” Bucky teases.

“My muscles,” Clint purrs, and Bucky’s mouth goes dry. “The way I can pick you up almost as easily as Steve can.”

“Warmer,” Bucky groans, and really. He has no idea how Clint manages to make him so hard so fast, but he’s not complaining, no sir.

“The way I can fuck you so good you pass out afterwards?”

“That was one time,” Bucky says, but now he’s distracted because Clint took off his shirt, the bastard. “Not fair,” he says breathlessly.

“Well, if you wanna talk about fair,” Clint says wickedly, and  _ fuck, _ Bucky’s in for it now. “You hurt my feelings, baby.”

“Sorry,” Bucky offers, and he is sorry, really. He never wants to hurt Clint, not ever. He’d rather cut off his other arm than hurt Clint. 

“You don’t sound sorry,” Clint says, and he flips them so that Bucky’s straddling him, Clint’s hands on his hips. 

Well, excuse him for sounding anything other than horny as fuck right now, thank you very much. “You make it hard for me to be sorry when you’ve got me thinking with my dick,” Bucky says. Clint just grins at him and fits a hand down Bucky’s sweatpants, tracing the outline of his dick with the tip of a finger.

“This for me?” He asks, and Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“No, you mentioned Steve and my childhood best friend’s name just got me goin’, what can I say?” He snarks. And then he immediately regrets it when Clint takes his hand out of Bucky’s pants. “Aw, no,” Bucky complains softly, staring sadly at his crotch. 

“And now you say another man’s name when I’m trying to be nice and get you off?” Clint says, shaking his head. “You’ve really hurt my feelings, darlin’, I don’t know if I can go on like this.”

Bucky gets an idea. “Well,” he says, smirking slightly, “If I hurt your feelings, the only thing for me to do is try to make you feel better, right?”

“Sure,” Clint agrees hesitantly - which is fair, because whenever Bucky abruptly switches tracks like he just did, it usually ends in explosions. The  _ type _ of explosion varies, sure, but Bucky’s usually pretty explosion consistent. 

Bucky looks up at Clint through his eyelashes (a difficult thing to do, considering his position on Clint’s lap puts Bucky a couple of inches higher than him) and slides off Clint’s lap to between his legs, settling onto his knees. “Let me make it up to you?” He asks, and Clint’s breath hitches as he nods frantically. 

“Please,” he says, and he reaches for the drawstring of his sweats. 

Bucky stops him, grabbing his hands and putting them on either side of Clint’s thighs. “Let me,” he says, and okay, so only like, three quarters of this is for Clint. The other bit is for Bucky - he really likes having Clint’s dick in his mouth, alright. It’s pretty much perfect. 

“Sure,” Clint agrees, smirking. He knows how Bucky gets when he has Clint’s cock in his mouth - fuck-dumb is a good way of putting it - but this time, Bucky is  _ determined _ to make this last long enough for the rest of his plan to take effect.

Bucky smoothes his hands up Clint’s legs, gently but firmly tracing the outlines of muscles that are visible even through the fabric of his sweatpants until he gets to Clint’s crotch. He frames it with his hands, barely brushing over the tenting fabric and moving up Clint’s chest. He tweaks both nipples on his way past, pulling a groan from Clint, and then does it again as he moves back down. The muscles in Clint’s abdomen twitch as he passes over them, and he spends a decent amount of time running his nails over them atop the thin white fabric of Clint’s t-shirt. 

“Bucky,” Clint warns, but it’s hard to take him seriously when his voice breaks into a squeak halfway through Bucky’s name because Bucky dropped a gentle kiss right on top of his covered dick.

“I’m just tryin’ to make it up to you,” Bucky says innocently, bringing his hands back down to Clint’s thighs. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” Clint sucks in a breath as Bucky’s metal hand ghosts over the tent in his pants. 

Look, it’s no surprise to Bucky that Clint has a thing for the metal hand. He prefers when Bucky opens him up with that hand, and he’s also got a thing for watching Bucky use a knife with it. So Bucky’s not even a little bit shocked when Clint’s hips twitch after his metal hand. 

Clint groans when Bucky brings his hand back, this time pressing down harder on Clint’s dick. “Fuck,” he gasps.

“Later,” Bucky says, “When you’re all sensitive from having just come.” He doesn’t mean it, not really, but Clint’s dick jerks underneath his hand and Bucky looks up, locking eyes with Clint. “You’d like that? Just let me fuck you right after you finish, not stop until I’m done with you no matter how much you beg?”

Clint  _ whines _ , and his hips jerk upwards. “Bucky,  _ please _ ,” he pleads, and Bucky loves all versions of Clint - but this version? The version of Clint that’s needy and whiny and completely unrepentant about wanting? That Clint has a special place in Bucky’s - well, somewhere, anyway. 

“Bedroom,” Bucky says, standing up smoothly. Clint blinks at him. “I can always just let you take care of that yourself,” Bucky shrugs, and he starts to turn away but Clint grabs his hand and leaps up from the couch. He practically drags Bucky behind him, his grip near bruising - but Bucky doesn’t mind. He likes when Clint gets like this, it gives him an opportunity to show Clint how much he loves him.

Clint lets go of Bucky’s hand exactly once and that’s to strip off his clothes and Bucky’s before he grabs it again and pulls Bucky down on top of the bed. “Excited?” Bucky teases, holding himself up above Clint, grinning.

“Horny,” Clint corrects, eyes blown wide. 

“Understandable,” Bucky says seriously, and he lowers himself onto his side beside Clint. “I have that effect on you.”

“Always,” Clint agrees, and Bucky’s heart goes a little soft at that. With no warning, he takes Clint’s dick in his metal hand and strokes it, once, twice. Clint hisses and bucks up into his grip, tossing his head back.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Bucky murmurs, watching him. “I’m lucky to have you, sweetheart.”

A blush rises on Clint’s cheeks and he squirms for reasons completely unrelated to Bucky’s too-slow strokes. “‘M the lucky one,” he mutters, and Bucky frowns, but says nothing. Yet. “More?” Clint says, pushing his hips into Bucky’s grip.

“Needy,” Bucky says, “I like needy.” Clint whines when Bucky pulls his hand away, but when Bucky comes back with lube, he grins. “There’s that beautiful smile,” Bucky says softly, and Clint goes pinker. He moves down the bed and settles in between Clint’s legs, looking up at him and grinning. Bucky presses a soft kiss to the tip of Clint’s dick and it twitches, making Bucky laugh. He lubes up his metal hand and wraps it around Clint’s cock, the slick glide of his hand making Clint groan lowly.

“Feels good,” he moans, his legs falling open further. 

“Looks better,” Bucky grins, using the sound of his voice to mask the sound of him lubing up his other hand, “You’re gorgeous like this, Clint. The sight of your pretty dick fucking into my hand, the noises you make - mmf. I could just keep you here, y’know. Not let you up, just keep torturing you, not letting you come - I’d be able to hear these pretty noises whenever I wanted.”

Clint gasps, head jerking up and he locks eyes with Bucky. He opens his mouth to say something, but Bucky chooses that moment to rub his slick finger over Clint’s furled rim. Clint chokes and his hips slam up into Bucky’s grip, then back down onto the bed. “Please, please, Bucky, please!” He begs, hips moving in little circles. 

“Alright, just relax for me sweetheart, okay?” Bucky puts his finger back at Clint’s hole, and at a nod from Clint, he gives a gentle push and sinks in up to the first knuckle. Clint groans and his hole tightens around Bucky’s finger, then relaxes as Bucky gently moves it out and back in again. 

“Uh, uh, Bucky,” Clint moans, and Bucky squeezes the base of his dick in warning. 

“I’m not lettin’ you go off just yet, sweetheart,” he says, “I gotta have at least three fingers in you before I let you go, otherwise it’ll be the bad kind of hurt.”

“Hurry,” Clint pleads, and his voice sounds so  _ wrecked _ \- Bucky has to take a minute and adjust himself. He puts his hand back on Clint’s dick and when Clint’s busy moaning from that, he adds another finger to Clint’s ass. He rubs his fingers over Clint’s walls, searching for - “Fuck!” Clint shouts, hips jerking into the air.

There it is. Bucky smirks. “You can’t come yet, sweetheart, I still gotta get another finger in you.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Clint cries, and Bucky’s pretty sure if he keeps this up, Clint might end up crying - Bucky’s a little surprised at how okay he is with that. He grinds his hips into the bed to try and relieve some pressure and adds another finger. “Shit,” Clint says breathlessly, squirming on the bed.

“Almost ready, sweetheart,” Bucky soothes, and Clint curses at him when Bucky speeds up both hands, twisting his wrist at the top of every stroke while also nailing his prostate with every thrust of his fingers. 

“Bucky Bucky  _ Bucky _ !” Clint screams, and it’s music to Bucky’s ears. Clint’s gasps and moans are his favourite soundtrack, especially when he’s the one causing them. He coaxes a few more twitches and jerks out of Clint before the blond man starts trying to move away from his fingers.

“Hmm, none of that,” Bucky says, curling his fingers slightly.

“Mmf, Bucky, it  _ hurts _ !” Clint says, but he stops moving.

“Sure,” Bucky agrees, withdrawing his fingers and rolling on a condom, “But  _ you _ were the one that said you wanted me to fuck you after you came.  _ You _ said that you wanted me to fuck you and not stop, no matter how much you begged me to.”

“Dammit, past-Clint,” Clint mutters, but his legs relax.

“You know your word, sweetheart?” Bucky checks.

“Water buffalo,” Clint says, and Bucky gives a little snort when he twitches away from Bucky’s length.

“Stay  _ still _ ,” Bucky says firmly, and he grabs Clint’s thighs and slides home in one smooth movement. “Hnng,” Bucky says, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Comfy?” Clint asks, and it would’ve been snarky if his voice didn’t sound so  _ wrecked _ , completely shot from all his whining earlier.

“Very. Yup. Comfy, that’s me.” Bucky pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back into Clint, setting a punishing pace. 

“Motherfuc-” Clint lets out little punched out noises, all he can manage as Bucky’s thrusts knock the air out of him.

“Taking this so well for me, sweetheart,” Bucky grunts, “Your tight little ass takes my cock like it was made for it, so perfect, so beautiful for me, Clint, baby, ah!”

“Too much, too much!” Clint cries - and then his voice cracks and tears squeeze out the corners of his eyes and Buckys comes with a roar, slamming right into Clint’s abused prostate and making him scream. A little dribble of come is all that comes out of his still-soft cock and Bucky would laugh if he wasn’t having a hard time thinking. 

“Fuck,” he says when he gets higher brain functions back.

“Uh-huh,” Clint mumbles, and Bucky lifts his head to look at the man underneath him. 

“You cried,” he says, awestruck, as he wipes the tear tracks off Clint’s face.

“Happens sometimes,” Clint says, cheeks going pink.

“I need to make that happen more often,” Bucky says, laughing when Clint scrunches up his nose. He rolls off of Clint, stripping the condom off and chucking it into the bin. 

“That was fun,” Clint says, rolling on top of his chest.

“Quite,” Bucky grins. “Very domestic of us.”

“What, so  _ now _ you’re okay with us being domestic? What happened to ‘I’m the Winter goddamned Soldier, for fuck’s sake’, huh? Where’d that guy go?”

“That guy went up your ass, sweetheart,” Bucky smirks, “Don’t you know that ass could convince an angel to sin?” 

“I don’t need an angel,” Clint says, burying his head in Bucky’s chest, “I’ve got you.”

“You sap!” Bucky snorts, his laughter making Clint shake on his chest. 

“You gotta say somethin’ sappy back, or I’ll get sad!” Clint whines.

“What, like you light up my world? I’m so incredibly grateful you gave me the time of day back when I was a grumpy asshole? I love you a ridiculous amount, but it’s okay because I know you love me the same? Somethin’ like that?”

“Wait, what do you mean  _ back when _ you were a grumpy asshole?” Clint says, confusion lining his face. “Aren’t you still a grumpy asshole?”

“Why, you little -” Bucky digs his fingers into Clint’s sides, letting the music that is Clint’s laughter wash over him. Yeah. Maybe domestic isn’t so bad. 


End file.
